


not a fairy tale story

by beastie_beauty



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastie_beauty/pseuds/beastie_beauty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Peggy didn’t get to touch Angie. And one time she did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not a fairy tale story

i. one

 Sometimes Peggy’s mind wanders far. Too far. So far that she questions Angie’s love. It is only for a brief moment, of course, before she is reminded of the undying love the younger woman has for her. A soft smile, a kiss on the cheek, a ‘have a nice day’ here and there; these really are all Peggy needs to remember everything Angie has done for her up until now.

 But she still has doubts. Sometimes. No matter how brief they are, they still exist.

 It just happened again. An instant before Peggy found herself staring down at her half empty cup of tea, alone in the kitchen. She could still feel the warmth of Angie’s body on her own, and her breath against her lips. But the woman is nowhere to be seen.

 “I should go to bed. It’s getting late and I have an audition tomorrow,” she had said. Just like every time. And Peggy still could not understand what triggered such a reaction in Angie. The young actress who was always bold and open about her feelings and her love, fleeing Peggy’s embrace.

 

* * *

 

ii. two

 With Angie’s soft lips against hers, Peggy forgets everything that isn’t purely  _Angie_. The sweet perfume, the breathy moans, smeared lipstick and flawless skin under her touch are all that is left to think about in this moment.

 “I love you, English,” Angie whispers between two deep kisses.

 And it is all Peggy needs to become bolder in her touches. Her hands hike higher on Angie’s thighs, reaching just under the hem of the younger woman’s uniform as she kisses down Angie’s jaw and her neck. She can hear Angie’s breath hitching as her fingers find flesh above the top of her stockings.

 Until everything stops again.

 Angie leans away from Peggy’s mouth and grabs her hands from under her skirt. She doesn’t look Peggy in the eyes, she simply kisses her knuckles before letting go of her hands. So Peggy watches in silence as her lover stands up from the table she was sitting on. Watches in silence as her lover walks away from her one more time.

 “I have an audition tomorrow, I should go to bed. Need my beauty sleep!” is the cheery variant of her usual excuse tonight.

 Peggy is left once more wondering what she has done wrong. Maybe Angie doesn’t love her that much. Maybe she isn’t comfortable enough with her for their relationship to go one step further. It is the thought that hurts the most. Because even if she sometimes questions Angie’s love, she always realizes that it is the one thing in her life she should not have any doubt about. But Angie’s comfort... She can never be sure.

 

* * *

 

iii. three

 It takes Peggy months of living together to understand that she isn’t really the problem. And that Angie’s love isn’t either. It takes Peggy months of living together to understand that if Angie loves to touch people, to reach for an arm or a hand, she doesn’t like to be touched quite as much. There are parts of Angie’s body that Peggy now knows not to approach.

 Thighs, waist and stomach.

 Anywhere else is alright, or very welcome - and even encouraged at times - to be touched, tickled or kissed.

 But when Peggy accidentally grazes one of the parts she should not approach and Angie flinches, yes, flinches is the word, no matter how bright Angie’s smile is, Peggy notices the little flinch, she never apologizes. She refuses to bring more attention to the accident than necessary. If Angie wants to bring attention to it, she will. In the mean time, Peggy has to be patient, to be ready to listen and accept what Angie might tell her one day.

 Peggy isn’t sure she is ready for what Angie might want to tell her.

 

* * *

 

iv. four

 Peggy discovers, when she should not, that she is, without a doubt, not ready to listen to Angie. To anything the young actress might have to say.

 She is in Brooklyn with Jarvis, looking for Howard, because the man managed to get in trouble again. This time, by sleeping with a woman who is married to a member of the Italian mafia - actresses were not enough trouble for his mustache, apparently. She feels Jarvis tense up a bit beside her. When she looks up at his face, he’s staring at a small group of people. What seems to be a family of three - parents and a girl who can’t be more than six or seven. Has Anna mentioned children?

 It is when Peggy sees the bright smile of the mother and hears her laugh that she understands that the little girl in the woman’s arms is not what caught Jarvis’ attention.

 Angie.

 Her Angie. Who is supposed to be at lunch with her parents. Is carrying a child and allows a man to wrap an arm around her waist - the same waist Peggy herself has not been allowed to approach.

 “Mr. Jarvis, would you mind if I left you to look for Howard alone?”

 “Absolutely not, Ms. Carter.”

 Jarvis is a smart, understanding man and Peggy could not be more thankful for that fact than she is in that moment. He knows she is about to cry, he knows she is going to go home and cry over a glass of scotch, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to stop her or tell her that everything will be fine in the end, or that there must be a reason for Angie’s lies.

 “Should I find you a taxi?” he asks as she starts to walk away.

 She doesn’t look back at him, too afraid she will catch another glimpse of Angie’s happiness. “I will walk. But thank you.”

 

* * *

 

v. five

 “What’s happening, Pegs?”

 Peggy doesn’t look up from her newspapers. She barely hums in acknowledgement of the question before sipping at her tea. She can see Angie’s impatience and frustration from the corner of her eyes, her hands on her hips and her deep frown.

 “What do you mean?”

 Peggy doesn’t see it, but she is certain Angie rolls her eyes at her question.

 “What I mean is that a week ago you couldn’t keep your hands off me and now you don’t even look at me when I talk to you,” she snaps, and grabs the newspapers, yanking at it violently.

 Peggy does not protest, does not try to take back the newspapers. Angie is staring at her, tears messing up her makeup and leaving dark tracks on her cheeks. Panic seizes Peggy at the sight. She is responsible for these tears. She hurt Angie.

 “Angie,” she breaths as she stands up from the armchair. She reaches for the actress’ waist but immediately withdraws her hand. “I’m sorry...”

 “What for?”

 “For not being enough.”

 And Peggy’s voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, but she refuses to cry. She will not cry again. Not in front of Angie. Angie who seems lost and confused and about to start crying again. It hurts even more to see the woman she loves in such a state.

 “I thought I could make you happy, Angie,” Peggy marks a pause to take a deep breath and to stop the tears from falling. “But you already were. With that family of yours.”

 “Peggy...”

 She does not look back at Angie. It isn’t fair of her, but she cannot look back. But she does not flee, or at least not as far away as she could - and probably  _should_ , a little voice in her head repeats. In the confines of her bedroom, Peggy finally allows herself to cry again. And she knows, yes, she  _knows_ , that Angie is doing the same thing.

 

* * *

 

vi. six

 When Peggy wakes up, her watch reads two o’clock. She has noticed the figure at the end of her bed, standing awkwardly stiff, staring down at her. She tries to ignore Angie’s presence, but the heavy, irregular breathing is obnoxiously hurtful to listen to. So she glances up. Just a brief moment, to take in her lover’s - can she still say lover? - appearance. Face freed of all make up, cheeks reddened and eyes still slightly puffy, Angie somehow manages to look more beautiful than ever. Angie, Peggy realizes, is wearing her silk robes.

 “Can I tell you a secret?”

 It does not sound like a question. Peggy has only one option, so she nods.

 “The people you saw me with,” Angie worries her lower lip between her teeth. “You saw me with them, right?” Peggy nods again. “I didn’t choose them.”

 Peggy arcs an eyebrow and sits up properly, resting her back against the headboard, her eyes never leaving Angie’s.

 “I made a mistake when I was seventeen. A beautiful mistake. Her name is Alessandra. She is going to be five next week.”

 There’s a silence then. Peggy only stares at Angie, who is looking down at her fidgety hands.

 “And the man?” Peggy inquires, barely hiding the jealousy lacing her voice.

 “Alfonso. He is an idiot, but he is a good father, and an even better friend,” Angie smiles. “When he is around,” she adds before rolling her eyes. “I never loved him, ya know? I just wanted to prove myself I wasn’t violet. Guess it’s one more thing I failed.”

 The little laugh that follows is so forced that it makes Peggy cringe.

 “Why didn’t you mention them before?”

 “Waitress, miserable actress who can’t land one role, queer. I couldn’t just had “mother at seventeen”, could I?”

 Peggy stands up and walks to where Angie is sitting. She kneels down in front of her and grabs the younger woman’s hands as she starts to cry again. Peggy places soft kisses on Angie’s knuckles.

 “Angie, look at me please,” Peggy whispers, searching Angie’s eyes. “You are not a failure. And I love you for who you are. Waitress, actress who hasn’t yet been able to land a role and queer.” Peggy smiles up at Angie. “Especially queer,” she adds, and Angie’s face finally brightens up. “And I could love the mother if you allowed me to get to know her.”

 Angie shakes her head and shrugs dismissively at that, sniffling a bit.

 “You wouldn’t love the stretchmarks I still have.”

 “Oh, really?” Peggy asks, arching an eyebrow.

 Angie swats at her shoulder playfully and laughs before calming down all of a sudden. Even her tiny smile disappears as she presses her lips together in a line.

 “Kiss me.”

 Peggy blinks but does not need to be asked a second time. She doesn’t try to stand up, only grabs Angie’s face and brings her closer. The first few kisses are brief and soft and everything like they have always been between the two of them. But Angie quickly becomes more insistent, licking her upper lip, trying to grab onto Peggy’s shirt to bring her closer.

 Peggy stands up abruptly, breaking the kiss to push Angie on her back. Peggy crawls back to Angie’s lips, who lets out a surprised yelp.

 And when she hesitates to put her hands on Angie’s waist, the waitress unties the robes and guides her lover’s shaky hands under the silky material. Peggy wriggles her wrists away from Angie’s grip and sits up.

 The robes are open now, and Angie is very much naked under them. Peggy stares in awe at the small body spread under hers. The perky breasts, the rosy nipples, the thin waist, the deep marks covering her stomach. Peggy lets her fingers ghost over all of them, her smirks widening with every whimper escaping Angie’s lips.

 “I love them,” Peggy simply announces as she traces the stretchmarks before leaning down again for a kiss.


End file.
